The Ghouls Come Out to Play
by Lizicia
Summary: 'She might've told Ressler she hated this job but truthfully, the truth he was also thinking but had the courtesy not to say out loud, was that if she really, truly hated it, she could leave, she would've already left. No matter the price on her marriage.' Keen/Ressler, post-Madeline Pratt.


**A/N:** Ah, _Madeline Pratt_. Since we got only two teeny scenes of Keen and Ressler, I took the liberty to expand on the later one. This is, therefore, set after on of the last scenes of the episode and some dialogue's been lifted from it.

Title from Florence + the Machine _Shake It Out_.

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Liz felt drained, the fight with Tom still weighing heavily on her mind. There just was no way around this, was there? She didn't want to fight but she wasn't willing to take all the blame; for the baby, for working so much, for everything that had gone wrong.

She might've told Ressler she hated this job but truthfully, the truth he was also thinking but had the courtesy not to say out loud, was that if she really, truly hated it, she could leave, she would've already left. But she was an FBI agent, she was a profiler and while this might not have been the career she'd imagined for herself, exactly – because it would've been impossible to imagine something like this ever existing – this was still the best job she could've had. She contributed to something, she made a difference, her choices and her actions mattered in a way they hadn't before. It wasn't easy to quit this.

Sighing, she called Tom again, still willing to apologize, to promise to make the next flight out and be in Orlando because she wasn't prepared to give up on them, because she wanted to fight for them even if it was starting to feel like a lost battle. When she reached his voice mail for the third time, she realized he wasn't interested; he was going to give her the silent treatment, punish her for doing her job, just like his last passive-aggressive stance with the dinner, and not actually solve anything.

When Ressler walked in and handed her the file on Pratt, she quickly and without thinking analyzed his movements. The ease they now shared made it better to read him, to see the way he was more relaxed, more open and more willing to share with her, even if he had accused her of having been a criminal. She watched him loosen his tie and reach for his car keys and realized there would be no more sharing tonight; he might have so kindly promised to rough Tom up but she couldn't keep him all the time.

"You taking off already?" Liz tried for nonchalance and ease but cringed as she heard the slight need in her own voice, the way it seemed to crack imperceptibly on _already_ and quickly searched his face for any indication that he'd heard it too, hoping he hadn't.

"Yeah, I'm taking Audrey for dinner."

The happiness which belied that sentence made her realize he hadn't heard and while she had hoped for him not to, the realization didn't ease her but rather made her sorrowful. And there was a brief moment when she couldn't contain it, couldn't keep the perfectly fine facade going and just at that moment, he turned his gaze upon her.

And just like that, she saw the concern, saw Ressler realize that there was more to this scene than he had seen, more to understand and hear. The way he looked at her, the concern, the almost soft expression loosened something inside of her, made the thoughts which had been so present in her mind for a long time to explode and just escape of their own volition.

"I think he's going to leave me."

The moment she said it, however, she saw Ressler start towards her and realized she had guilted him into staying and this she wouldn't have. She wasn't going to need him, wouldn't depend on him to solve her problems, especially if he actually had somewhere to be, somewhere normal.

"No, go, you have dinner."

But, undeterred by her words, he sat down opposite her, and gave her an appraising gaze and Liz knew there was no quick way out of this.  
"He'll understand."

Any idea she had of convincing him to leave was gone the moment those words were uttered and she found herself powerless to fight them, to fight his concern because she wanted those words, she wanted that presence. And so, she acquiesced.

"We haven't fought like this before. And I feel...I feel him slipping."

He cast her a scrutinizing glance and stood up. For a moment, the tiniest of moments, Liz thought he was going to leave after all, to be with Audrey and she felt utterly alone again.

He must've seen it before she could conceal that thought because he smiled softly as he reached for the bottom drawer of his desk. "I figured you might need this."

And pulled out a half-empty bottle of bourbon. The surprise that revelation caused her was written all over her face as Ressler laughed and produced two glasses.

"Don't look so shocked, Keen. I'm not as uptight and Red thinks I am."

She smirked at his words and watched him pour some of the amber liquid into both glasses and took the one he offered to her with a small smile.

"Are we drinking to something?"

"Do you want to be drinking to something?"

She pretended to think it over as she offered her glass to clink against his. "I'm not really one for toasting."

They sipped in silence for a few moments until she found it in her to return to their previous topic.

"How do you know he'll understand?"

"Look, it's not easy, what we do. It's complicated and messy and shrouded in secrecy and it affects so many people besides us but you have to believe that he'll understand if you explain it."

She snorted disbelievingly and rolled her eyes. "What, like Audrey understood?"

The thought flew out of her mouth before she'd had a chance to really think about it and she immediately regretted the low blow she'd just delivered. "Oh, wow. I really am a catty bitch. I didn't mean to say it."

To her surprise, however, Ressler didn't seem angry or upset; rather he was smiling and seemed very amused by her words.

"No, Ressler, you don't have to say anything. Just go, have dinner with Audrey who I'm sure is very understanding and just leave me before I'll say anything worse."

"Yeah, well. I wasn't quite expecting it but you're not wrong. She was very understanding for a long time but I know what it's like to not know how exactly you should act around the one person you shouldn't have to pretend with."

He sipped his drink, letting the words slowly sink in, letting them both hear the weight and regret in that sentence and Liz was reminded of how lucky Ressler really was to have found Audrey again, to get a second chance.

"Thing is...it's not like I knew what to do either. There's no magic formula, no set course of action to keep relationships. It's hard in our line of work anyway but given the secrecy of it all, it's practically impossible. I just didn't know how to catch Red without losing Audrey and that cost me."

She heard the words and knew this was her reality he was describing; maybe there wasn't enough honesty between her and Tom to begin with, despite what she'd wholeheartedly believed before she ever met Red. Maybe the box wasn't the start of her doubts but really the catalyst for letting all those fears creep to the surface.

"I've tried explaining it to Tom a million times. Told him as much as I could, without revealing any details, or betraying any state secrets but still it doesn't really help that we make plans and I'm the one to have to cancel them. He thinks I don't care."

Liz considered a moment how much to tell Ressler, how much she really could trust him; the bond they now shared seemed to unravel threads around her heart by the minute, pushing her to reveal more and more of herself. But the look of absolute concentration and focus on his face drove her to push through her doubts; there was something comforting about him, something she absolutely knew she could count on.

"And it's not that I don't care; I really do. I just don't know how to make both of my realities happen."

"What does he want?"

She sighed audibly at the question because she knew perfectly well what Tom wanted and how far removed it was from what she could give him.

"After the attack he wanted us to move to Nebraska. He would teach and I would, uh, join the Omaha field office, I guess. But that's just the thing; he thinks we would have a picture perfect life, a nice, quiet existence and I..."

"And you don't want it?"

"It's not just that. You know, I always imagined myself as being married and having a family and having a job too, naturally. It was never about having a career but now that I've seen it, I can't just leave for Omaha."

"Even if that was the only way to save your marriage?"

"But it can't be."

He sighed and gave her a pointed look.

"Look, the only thing I can tell you is talk to him, make him understand. I'm trying to make amends for something that happened a while ago with Audrey and it's hard but if you love him, then it's worth it. I'm not saying you have to move to Omaha – because I don't really want to break in a new partner – but maybe there's some other middle ground you can find."

Before she got the chance to answer back, to ask if he loves Audrey – because she had never heard such grand words from him before and the bourbon was giving her the courage to be really frank – Ressler's phone rang.

He watched the display but let it go to voicemail. "It's Audrey."

The realization crashed into her like a tidal wave. She'd kept him from Audrey, from the one person he was trying to reconnect with and for what? To lament over her marriage woes?

"You should go, Ressler. She might be understanding but you have to give a little."

He smirked and stood, and she didn't miss the way he straightened out his leg, flexing it a bit. The scuffle at the ambush must've jogged some muscles, strained something and for the umpteenth time, Liz wondered just how he was really doing back in the field.

"Come on, let me drive you home."

His offer was surprising and she let it show on her face. "Don't you have a dinner to get to?"

"Sure, but not for another half an hour. I can easily pass your house."

It was tempting, sure, but there was something about the bourbon she'd been drinking, something humming in her veins that made her remind herself she really shouldn't, even if she wasn't quite sure why that was.

"No, that's okay. I'll just go over the Pratt files for a while longer, catch up on some overdue paperwork."

"You sure?"

She smiled a little, trying to ease him into thinking it was fine because really, she didn't need anyone.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ressler."

She could see that he wasn't quite convinced and for a moment it seemed like he would fight her on it, make her come with him but she also saw the moment he let go.

"Okay."

As she watched him leave, she knew she wasn't any closer to solving any of the problems which plagued her and Tom but that might've been too much to ask from a simple conversation anyway. There was, however, the hope that all wouldn't be lost, that there would be at least one person who was willing to listen.

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**A/N: As always, do let me know what you thought!**


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